


Sweater Thief

by goobzoop



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Canon Compliant, Chilly fucking Temps, Cuddling & Snuggling, Friendship, M/M, Sweaters, canon af, maybe this actually happened who knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22184683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goobzoop/pseuds/goobzoop
Summary: Frank is cold as hell and the solution to all of his chilly fucking problems lie in Gerard's overstuffed suitcase.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 7
Kudos: 97





	Sweater Thief

**Author's Note:**

> idfk what I'm doing writing fan faction is a goddamn mystery to me. Enjoy

Frank loves September and it’s decidedly perfect hoodie wearing weather, but that doesn’t mean much when he’s on tour, because it’s 34 degrees in Maine where he’s shivering in the back of an unheated tour van. You’d think that he would learn after even just the first time, but he doesn’t, and not learning his lesson about weather means that he only packed thin hoodies with no insulation whatsoever.

In other words, he’s, like, fucking freezing. 

There is one way that he likes to deal with this problem and he usually succumbs to this solution pretty quickly. It’s perfect: simply steal all of Gerard’s warm clothes. The first time he did it, he tried to be sneaky about it. He rummaged through Gerard’s suitcase one night at a motel when he was sleeping and quietly put on two of his sweaters before zipping his hoodie overtop of them. 

Gerard didn’t notice right away. He didn’t even notice until the third tour. He was daft as Frank was cold. By that time, Frank had gotten very good at it. It took him dwindling down to one measly sweater to finally get the message that, hey, where are all my fucking clothes?

“I dunno, man.” Frank said when questioned. He wrapped his arms around his fluffy, warm, midsection and avoided any and all eye contact. 

“You think I left em back in that motel in Cleveland?” 

“Could be. You never know. You’re kinda forgetful, Gee.” Frank said, all rushed and nervous. 

“Well, can I borrow a sweatshirt then? It’s fucking chilly.” 

“Uhhhh…” 

“Really, dude? C’mon!” Gerard whined. “I’m cold, Frankie!” 

Frank shifted in his seat nervously. They were riding in the back of the van together and it was pretty fucking cold, Frank knew it. It was The abdominal snowman’s icy fucking balls type of cold. And he felt bad, but not bad enough to let Gee know what he’s been up to. 

“I, uh, I can’t, Gee. I’m only wearing just this.” He rubbed his arms and shot Gee a sad look. 

“No you’re not. I can see all your layers poking out!” Gerard pulled on the hem of Frank’s sweaters. “You’ve got like five on! FIVE!”

“Yeah, but I need em...”

“But Frankieeeee, I only have one.” Gerard pouted. 

Damn that bastard. He knew Frank was vulnerable to his puppy dog eyes. 

“Yeah but...”

“Frankie!”

“Ah, Fuck! Fine! Okay?!” Frank unzipped his hoodie and peeled off a dark gray Morrissey sweatshirt and tossed it at Gerard’s face.

“Hey—!” 

Frank got to work zipping his hoodie back up as Gerard eyed the sweater, his expression changing several times as he palmed it. 

“Frank, what the fuck? Is this _my_ Morrissey sweatshirt? Holy shit, it _so_ is! I totally burned the sleeve right there!”

“No, that’s mine. We just have similar clothes. Basically everyone has a Morrissey sweater. It’s like a right of passage, Gee.” Frank said.

“So you’re telling me you got a cigarette burn in the same place as me on the same sweatshirt _and_ you got a large when a large isn’t even your size?”

Fuck, Gerard was making, like, a lot of sense. 

“Well, I, uh. I don’t know! Jesus! Fuck. Lay off, dude. It’s just a sweater.”

“Yeah, MY sweater!” Gerard pulled it over his head and his face dropped. “MY sweater when all of MY sweaters are fucking gone in the wind!” 

Frank shifted nervously next to Gerard, and couldn’t think of a single productive thing to say that wouldn’t sound like an insane lie or a ridiculously defensive comeback.

Gerard eyed him like a cat watching its prey, and the two got very still for a brief moment. Frank knew Gerard knew, and Gerard knew that Frank knew that he knew. 

Then Gerard pounced at Frank, knocking him down on the seat and he cried out in shock. 

“Gee—! Fuck! Ow!”

Gerard didn’t really give a shit, he just wanted this sweaters back from the filthy sweater stealing thief.

“Gimmie! I know you have ‘em!”

“No! Never! I don’t!”

Gerard tugged down Frank’s zipper and cried triumphantly when he saw his faded vintage Batman sweater that he adored underneath.

“You _little shit_! You sweater stealing bitch!” Gerard yelled.

“What the fuck’s going on back there, you two?” Ray turned around, trying to see down in the backseat. 

“Nothing!” Frank and Gerard both screamed simultaneously, jostling around, limbs flying everywhere in a frantic struggle. 

“You better—fucking—goddamnit—hey—!”

“Ow, shit! Stop! Get off me, you fucker!”

“No! You give me my clothes!”

“No! I’m cold!”

“I’m fucking cold, you asswipe! Crook! Burglar! You STOLE MY SWEATERS!”

“We’re all fucking cold, dickbags.” Mikey said, deadpan, from the middle of the van. 

Gerard managed to finagle the Batman sweater over Frank’s head but the little fucker wouldn’t stop waving his arms around and it got stuck overtop of him.

“Quit it, Frankie! Stop moving!” 

“Aahhhhh!—“

Gerard slid his hand under the remaining two sweaters and Frank let out a deafening high pitched squeal. 

“Holy mother of shit! Your hands are like fucking icicles!” 

“Yeah, and serves you right!” Gerard grabbed onto the flesh on Frank’s sides and he yelped again, squirming violently. “Filthy Sweater bandit!”

“Fine! FINE! Uncle! Stop! Ohmyogd, Gee!” Frank stopped squirming, shook the sweater off his head, and threw it again at Gerard’s face.

“And don’t you forget it, ya sweater stealing freak.” Gerard smiled triumphantly, his chin tilted up.

“You’re mean!” Frank pouted.

“I’m mean?! You’re the one stealing all my stuff!” 

“Yeah, only cause it’s like, TWO degrees outside. Look at me! I’m shivering now!”

“Yeah, well, me too, asshole. You shoulda packed your own sweaters and we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Yeah, but, like… I forgot.” Frank looked up at the van ceiling like it was the most interesting thing in the world because, holy shit, that was the fucking stupidest thing that’s ever left his mouth.

“Well now we both have two, so we’re even.” Gerard huffed. “Plus you have that stupid paper thin hoodie, which by the way, you should be thanking me isn’t the only thing you’re wearing because it very well could be. Thankfully, I have a heart.” He crossed his arms and stared down the shivering man beside him. 

“Yeah, fine, thanks, or whatever…” Frank mumbled. 

“Y’know, if you’re so cold you can come closer.” Gerard quirked an eyebrow. 

“Hm?” Frank was _not_ expecting that. 

“Just, c’mere.” Gerard threw his arm back so that Frank would have a nice little nook to huddle up against him. 

Now, it wasn’t like they hadn’t been pressed up against each other before. Sometimes they’d all have to cram into a sedan and Frank has actually even ended up on his lap. Or they’d even shared a bed at a motel room, or ended up passed out on the same couch at some dingy afterparty. Hell, Frank has licked his fucking face on stage and one time Gerard even kissed him. But that was on stage, and those other times were all, like, circumstantial and full of alcohol or exhaustion or lack of space. This was, like, Gerard asking him to come cuddle up to him. Sure, they were both cold as fuck but this was going to be a long ride and Gerard was willingly asking him to cuddle with him. 

That arm looked really fucking inviting. 

Frank rolled his eyes because, fuck, he was nervous and didn’t want to look like he was eager. His stomach was doing flips. He scooted over and nudged his shoulder right under Gee’s armpit and he fit really snugly. Gee’s arm came down and wrapped around his shoulders and gripped his arm almost too tightly. And if Gerard was going to hold him like that, I mean, what the fuck, right? Frank wrapped his arm around Gerard’s stomach too, and squeezed him a little. Gerard smirked and Frank tried to suppress a tiny grin himself. Then Gee lifted his sweater up and let Frank’s hand fall against his bare flesh, and tucked the sweater back overtop.

“Shit, Gee, no, my hands are freezing—“

“S’okay, it’s fine.” He said. 

“Mh… alright. Thanks.”

“Yep.” Gerard closed his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. 

Frank let his head drop against Gerard’s shoulder, and he smelled the familiar scent of his best friend. It smelled a whole lot like the sweaters that he’s been stealing, but so much stronger. It just registered to him, as he shut his eyes and let out a lengthy sigh, just how much he’d come to love that scent. It sort of smelled like comfort and warmth. 

“M’sorry, Gee. I’m sorry I’m a sweater thief.”

“Sweater stealing bitch, actually.” Gerard chuckled. “I’ll pack extra next time so we have enough for the two of us.” 

Frank smiled. Gerard’s sweaters were so much better than his. 

“Are you two fucking cuddling back there?” Mikey said without even turning around.

“Fuck off, Mikey!” Frank whined. “It’s… cold.”

“No shit, Sherlock. That’s why I brought my Northface.”


End file.
